


A Change of Mind (of Heart)

by Xyriath



Category: Marvel (Comics), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 18:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1358113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nat wasn't expecting the deadliest assassin the world had known to be a woman.</p><p>But he soon learned she was much, much more than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Change of Mind (of Heart)

Nat wasn't sure what to do with the woman when he met her.  
  
He doubted, at first.  Scoffed, in fact.  How could this small woman, so much different than any of the other female spies he had known, be the deadliest assassin in the Soviet Union?  
  
One round of sparring—which had left Nat pinned to the mat in minutes, unable to move, with his arm twisted behind his back—changed his mind immediately.

It was perhaps a silly thing to say, that one brief experience could alter his perception of women so thoroughly, but when he looked back through all of the women he had known and respected, at how much he had learned over time, it started with her.  
  
But then, it wasn't a conscious realization.  It was simply a fascination, a draw to this "Winter Soldier" who he quickly learned had much to teach him.  
  
A fascination turned into attraction, but always tempered with admiration.  An occasional stab of resentment, as well, for Alesya, who he was assured would be a good, obedient little Russian wife.  He didn’t care—knew that both of them were not especially fond of each other.  
  
The Winter Soldier was the one who kissed him first, though it was a near thing.  For a moment, he thought their training hadn't ended, that she was grabbing him to pin, but instead, her metal arm fisted in the front of his shirt, then spread, fingers surprisingly gentle, as she pressed her lips to his.  
  
Then they were stumbling back to her room, clothes sliding off, his hands pinning her to the bed by her wrists, feeling her muscles tensing—and Nat knowing that it was only because she allowed it.  He laced their fingers together, feeling them curl between each other, one hand cold, and the other warm, as they wrapped around each other.  
  
Outwardly, not much changed, with the exception of the smirk that she wore as she continued to best him in training, worn until it is replaced by respect when his skill level reaches hers.  
  
Though it wasn't much, however, that was still too much.  Their discovery, the subsequent image of her suspension in that liquid, eyes closed, was one that he would always wish he could forget.  
  
—  
  
Years passed.  Nat became Nathan—Nate, to friends.  He had other relationships, some personal, some business—after all, he knew how to use his looks to his advantage, even with that blind lawyer.  
  
But he never forgot her.  
  
—  
  
Jamie—Bucky, _I'm_ Bucky—was a mess.  Hair shaggy, in need of a trim, unable to remember when she slept last.  And having years—decades—of painful memories flooding through her head didn't help matters.  
  
And when she _finally_ , finally grounded herself, Steve was dead.  
  
But there was one thing she was certain of.  Like hell Tony was going to have the shield.  Like hell she was going to let Tony _live_ after what he had done.  
  
It was going smoothly.  Perfectly, in fact, as any "snags" were minimal and unimportant.  
  
And then she saw _him_.  
  
 _"Nat?"_  
  
They both remember.  But Bucky won't let this pass, won't let him get away with the one thing left of Steve's.  Not after what they did to him.  
  
They fight.  She wins.  
  
—  
  
Tony Stark was scum.  Bucky was fairly certain that there was anything the man could do to dissuade her of that.  But she had to admit, she thought as she stared at the shield, she owed him.  
  
She wasn't going to do him any favors, not for his sake.  But for Steve's?  Maybe.  She sighed and reached out a finger to trace it along one of the circular stripes.  
  
And then there was Nathan.  
  
Every nerve in her body screamed not to trust him, but she had to admit that they had no basis beyond _don't trust anyone_.  Still, she knows him too well, and she finds it hard that even if they're working on opposite sides, he would truly be against her.  
  
She might as well give it a shot.  
  
No pun intended.  
  
—  
  
Nathan kept his expression steady as Jamie stepped into view.  It wasn't Steve's costume, but it was close.  A similar face mask, open in the back for a ponytail tied at the nape of her neck—it had grown out since he's seen her last.  Black pants and side paneling that met in a "V" at her waist.  Janet had finally been allowed to redesign the iconic costume, and while it was made for a female form, it was undersexualized, fitting Jamie better than anything that bared midriff or thigh.  While he had utmost respect for the women he knew who did wear such costumes, something like that would have just made her… uncomfortable.  
  
Jamie lifted the sidearm, giving it an efficient once-over before turning, shield lifted slightly, her excited eyes bright, burning holes in him.  
  
"I have to say, I don't look half-bad."  
  
He smiled faintly.  "At the very least."  
  
—  
  
He watches her fight, still one of the deadliest assassins the free world has ever known.  He watches her laugh in the face of the outcry— _A woman can't be Captain America!_ —but it is quickly silenced, almost as fast as his skepticism had  been, all those decades ago.  
  
He steps up to her in a quiet room, sun setting and illuminating her face, and watches her face before speaking.  
  
He isn't sure if she remembers.  
  
She smiles.  
  
She does.  
  
This time, it's him that pulls her in for the kiss.


End file.
